A Warden Born

by Paul Summerhayes

  The warden opened the front door of the cottage and ushered the brothers inside. The interior was dim and the brothers were hesitant to enter. Garm had to duck as he went through the low doorway. Kalher followed them and closed the door.

  Their eldon eyesight adjusted and they found that they were standing in a sparsely furnished room. A small table with four chairs was in the centre of the room, but this was of little interest to the brothers, as their attention was drawn to an iron cage in one corner. It was big enough to house a bed with an old straw mattress, but not much else.

  “Don’t worry boys, I am not going to lock you up.”

  The brother didn’t feel reassured.

  Kalher walked across the room and opened the curtains. Afternoon light streamed in and made the room less foreboding.

  “I am what passes as the law, in these parts. As far as I can tell, you haven’t broken any laws, so you can relax. You may have broken young Auttenburg’s head, though,” Kalher grinned. “How’s your lip? Any broken bones?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just a few scratches.”

  Kalher looked at the brothers. “What are your names?”

  “I am Finn, and this is my little brother, Garm.”

  “‘Little’ brother? He is bigger than any man I’ve seen.”

  “I am bigger than any eldon, as well,” said Garm.

  “Where are you boys headed?”

  “Nowhere in particular. We are looking for our father. Our grandfather said he died when we were both small, but I don’t believe it. We guess he is living in a human settlement somewhere in the low lands. All we know about him is that he has pale skin like ours,” replied Finn.

  “I haven’t seen any eldon with skin like yours before, but I will keep a look out for you.”

  “Thanks,” said Finn. “Besides, we’ve lived in the mountains all our lives, and it’s time for us to see new things.”

  “I understand. I did the same thing at your age, but war stopped me from exploring much of the world.”

  “Was that the Great War?”

  “Yes, it was. I am surprised you’ve heard about it.”

  “Why? Because we are eldon?”

  “No. I thought you young people weren’t interested in ancient history. True, your people didn’t fight during the Great War, but that’s all in the past, now.” Kalher indicated the chairs. “Where are my manners? Sit down, boys. Are you hungry? Of course you are.”

  He walked across the room and went through an open doorway into the kitchen. The brothers stood in silence at the front door. After a few bangs and a curse, the old man re-entered the room carrying a tray with a loaf of bread, cheese, a knife, a jug, and three wooden cups.

  “Dig in,” he said, as placed the food on the table.

  Finn hesitated, but Garm didn’t have to be asked twice. Forgetting his table manners, he sat down and started shovelling food into his mouth. Finn pulled out a chair and placed his pack and bow on the floor beside it before he sat. He cut a piece of cheese and ate it in thoughtful silence.

  With the boys eating, Kalher removed his sword and cloak and hung both on hooks near the kitchen before returning to sit with his two visitors. Their thin facial features, dark eyes, and pointed ears clearly marked them as eldon. Their grey skin was lighter than any eldon he had seen before, though, and he guessed it must be a family trait. To many humans, like Kirk Auttenburg, an eldon looked alien and they were often hated because of it. This wasn’t the case for Kalher, though. He had travelled far and saw much of the world. In his profession, it paid to be a good judge of character, and these two boys appeared to be harmless enough. He grinned, they just looked like two country bumpkins.

  He hadn’t seen many eldons in these parts for some time. Not many travelled this far south from their homelands in the White Cloud Mountains. A few times a year, one or two eldon trappers came to Freewater to trade furs for metal, tools, and livestock. The trappers always kept to themselves and never caused any trouble. In fact, they were more law-abiding than many of the locals.

  After the brothers had finished their meal, Finn looked around the room. His wandering eyes eventually stopped on Kalher. The old man’s round face looked thoughtful. He returned Finn’s gaze.

  “Thank you for your kindness, sir,” said Finn.

  “Call me Kalher. You’re welcome.”

  “Why are you helping us?”

  “When you are in my town, you are protected by the king’s law. Those young idiots broke the law, but I reckon you taught them a lesson,” he chuckled.

  The warden stood, put on his cloak and sword, and headed to the front door.

  “I have to make my rounds before dark. I will be back soon, but make yourselves at home.” He looked at Garm, “And, please, don’t eat all my food.”

  “Me?”

  Kalher left the cottage and smiled as he closed the door.

  “Do you think we can trust him?” asked Garm.

  “He seems honest enough. Besides, we don’t know anyone else here—we have to trust someone,” replied Finn. “If it wasn’t for your foolishness, we wouldn’t have left home in the first place.”

  “It wasn’t my fault.”

  “Well, maybe not the first time, but it was the second and third.”

  “What will we do now?”

  “When Kalher returns we’ll ask him if he knows anyone looking for workers.” If they couldn’t get a job, they would have to go back home and either want that.

  It was late when Kalher returned. He quietly opened the cottage door and crept in. Garm, whose chest slowly rose and fell, was asleep on the small bed in the cell with the door open. Finn slept in a chair with his head slumped over the table.

  Kalher removed his cloak and sword and was pleasantly surprised to find that the dishes were washed and neatly stacked on the kitchen bench. He smiled as he headed for his own bedroom.

  These are good boys, the old man thought.

  Chapter 3

  The two brothers awoke to the sounds and smells of breakfast. Garm was the first to stick his head into the kitchen, he found Kalher cooking bacon, eggs, and beans.

  “That’s making me hungry,” said Garm.

  “Everything makes you hungry,” said Finn, as he joined him in the doorway.

  “Okay, boys, don’t crowd the chef. Make yourselves useful, get those mugs, over there, and pour the coffee.”

  The three men busied themselves, and, in a short time, they were seated and eating. When Kalher finished, he sat back and watched his guests finish their meals. Garm reached for the loaf of bread and cut off a thick slice.

  “You boys sure know how to eat.”

  The brothers didn’t stop—they just grinned in acknowledgement of the comment and kept chewing. Kalher was deep in thought when the pair finally pushed their empty plates away and sat back, content.

  “Boys, how would you like to help me with something?”

  “With what?” Finn asked.

  “I am getting too old to be walking around this town all day and night. How would you two like to sign on as trainee wardens?”

  The two brothers stared at their host. “Warden Kalher, you don’t know us. Why are you being so kind to us?” Finn asked.

  “I am a good judge of character, and you two look honest, to me.”

  Finn looked at his brother and Garm nodded.

  “What will we have to do?”

  “In the remote areas of the country, wardens enforce the king’s laws. We are the only true law outside the capital, which makes this an important and often thankless job. The locals will depend on you to protect them and investigate any wrong-doings.

  “You’ll also have the authority to apprehend and imprison any criminal. They will be held in our cell, until the circuit judge makes his rounds about every month or two. He’ll decide their fate.

  “Apart from all of that, we must also make sure the town’s gates are locked and that our citizens are safe at night. Wardens are important and respected
people in the local community.”

  “We are after work. Being a warden,” said Finn, “is not something I’d thought about before. I guess we could give it a go.” Garm nodded in agreement.

  “Good, it’s settled, then.” Kalher shook their hands. “Besides, I need someone to do the heavy lifting around here,” he chuckled.

  Garm and Finn thanked him for his kindness. Kalher explained that they would report to the mayor, who paid them and directed them in the king’s absence. He added that the pay wasn’t particularly good at thirty copper pennies a week, but that wardens received free board.

  “How long have you been a warden?” asked Finn.

  “Maybe ten years, or so. I am not sure you’ll understand this, boys, but when I was a young man, I made some bad decisions. I did things I am not proud of. Becoming a warden was my opportunity to right my past.”

  “What about this Kirk Auttenburg? He’ll make trouble for us,” said Garm.

  “Don’t worry about him, he’s full of hot air. I think he’ll learn quickly not to pick on you two.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on him,” said Finn.

  “Good. Now, the first thing you can do as new wardens is to clean these dishes. After that, I will show you around town and introduce you to Warden Bucket and the mayor.”

  When the two brothers were finished with the dishes, they went outside. They didn’t require their heavy mountain coats, as the autumn morning was pleasant. Finn breathed deeply, enjoying the cool air, and looked for Kalher, who was nowhere to be seen. There were not many houses this close to the southern gate, and the street was almost empty. Across from them, a ginger-haired boy brushed a bay mare outside the stables, and a mangy, old hound slept near the stable doors.

  The brothers crossed the dirt street toward the freckle-faced boy. He looked up as they approached.

  “Hello,” said Finn. “Have seen Warden Kalher this morning?”

  “Old Jonas? Yeah, I saw him heading into town,” the boy pointed in the direction of the market. He introduced himself as Toby Wieck and they shook hands.

  The brothers headed up the street in search of their new benefactor. Just past the blacksmith and stables were a few wooden warehouses and old dwellings.

  The market square was busy, even at such an early hour. The merchants had their goods displayed on tables and were busy haggling with the first customers of the day.

  Most of the merchants were human, but there were two bearded dwarves manning a stall that sold tools of all shapes and sizes. There was even a large-nosed gnome who sold food. This was the same gnome the brothers saw yesterday and they stopped to watch him. He was the size of a ten-year-old human, fat, and had bushy eyebrows and unruly, sand-coloured hair. He was trying to sell cheese to an old, wrinkled woman.

  “Good choice, old mother,” said the gnome. “That will be six copper pennies, thank you,”

  “Six coppers? It was only three coppers last week, you little rogue!”

  “Three coppers? Grandma, I am not selling kurg food, here. You will not find better cheese than this within a hundred miles. This is even better than the cheese at the king’s table! Three coppers—that’s an insult.”

  “Okay, okay. Don’t pop a vein. Here are four coppers, and be thankful you are getting that much.”

  “I will not take anything less than five. If my dearly departed wife saw me giving away my cheese, she would turn in her grave,” said the gnome, with a sad face.

  “Okay. Five coppers.”

  “Thank you,” said the gnome, as coins were exchanged for cheese. “See you next week, Mrs. Nalrine.”

  The old woman hobbled up the street, shaking her head. The gnome noticed the brothers watching him and gave them a wink before turning to serve his next customer.

  As they continued through the market, the brothers spotted Kalher coming toward them.

  “Hello boys! Having a look around?”

  The warden looked around the market square, and his eyes lingered on the gnome. The gnome eyes meet Kalher’s for a moment, before he looked away.

  “Everything is in order here. Come on, I will show you around town.”

  They left the market and went north along Main Street. The buildings on the northern end of town were in good order and many had been recently painted. The brothers took in every sight, sound, and smell as they came to the open northern gate, which they’d entered through yesterday. A wagon packed with various boxes passed through the gate and headed to the market square. As Finn watched it go by, he noticed someone across the street peeking from behind the corner of a building. The person quickly retreated when he saw Finn looking in his direction.

  That’s odd. Was he was watching us?

  Kalher broke his train of thought. “Boys, our town has two gates. This one and the south gate, near our cottage. Our most important job of the day is opening and closing the gates. Just before sunrise, we open the gates, and just after sunset, we close them. Sounds pretty straight forward? Good. And when I say ‘we,’ I mean you two,” Kalher added with a smile. “Now I can sleep in.”

  “Is that all we have to do? It doesn’t sound hard,” said Finn.

  “The hardest job is dealing with people complaining about their neighbours. You will learn how to deal with them, in time,” said Kalher. “I will introduce to the mayor, now, and we will see how the day unfolds.”

  Kalher took them to the highest point in town, which was called the Hill. The buildings on the Hill were private dwellings and they were the largest homes the brothers had ever seen. The mayor’s house was a two-story structure at the end of Willow Street, and, due to its elevated position on the Hill, it looked over much of Freewater.

  Kalher knocked on the heavy, wooden door, and, after a few moments, the door was opened by a chubby, bald man with a thin moustache.

  “Hello, gentleman,” said the rosy-cheeked man. “I am Ernst Bohmer, Mayor of Freewater.” He looked pleased with his title. Kahler introduced the brothers and the mayor invited them inside.

  After a long talk, they left the mayor and Kalher continued the tour of the town. “Along with opening and closing the town’s gates, you will have to keep the peace and investigate any criminal activity both in town and the surrounding district.”

  “Surrounding district? We’re not locals,” said Finn.

  “Relax boys. It won’t take long to learn the ropes,” said Kalher. “Besides, I will be here to help you.”

  Finn continued to feel that they were being watched. He looked around often, but couldn’t see anyone who looked suspicious. He felt a little foolish and didn’t mention it to the others.

  “Let me introduce you to Warden Bucket.”

  It was late afternoon and the three had arrived back at Kalher’s cottage. The street was deserted and the only person in sight was the blacksmith. He was in the process of making horseshoes, and he worked a piece of steel with a hammer.

  “The blacksmith is Warden Bucket?” asked Finn.

  Kalher laughed and shook his head. “Bucket! Get your lazy, old bones over here, and introduce yourself.”

  The old, brown hound that was still lying in front of the stable raised his large head and looked in their direction. The dog tried to stand, but didn’t appear to have the energy, so he dropped back down again. On his second attempt, he stood and walked slowly to the three men.

  “This is Warden Bucket. He is one of the best wardens I have ever worked with—unless you need him to run or jump over a fence. At his age, he is not big on doing anything too physical.” The hound looked up at Kalher and wagged his tail. Garm bent down and patted Bucket’s head, the dog’s tail wagged faster. “He’s a bit like me. We are just too old to get excited about things anymore,” said Kalher. “Both of us should be retired.”

  “If he is so slow and old, what can he do?”

  “His nose is one of the finest instruments you will ever find. He could track a griffon through the air.” Kalher gave the dog a pat. “Come on, old boy, le
t’s get you some supper.”

  With thoughts of food on their minds, they all went inside the small cottage for a meal.

  As they entered, a dark shape silently blended into the stable’s shadow and disappeared.

  Chapter 4

  They sat at the table and ate their midday meal of sausages, potatoes, beans, and carrots. Garm had already finished one plate of food and helped himself to seconds.

  “If you eat any more, you will make us broke,” Kalher smiled.

  “I need my food. I’m still growing.”

  “You are already longer than your bed. You will have to sleep on two beds, if you keep eating.”

  Finn laughed as his brother wolfed down another thick sausage. They had been living in Freewater with Kalher for a few months, now. He gave them advice and guidance and was the closest thing to a father Finn had ever known. The brothers had been brought up by their mother and grandfather, before he died.

  “Kalher,” said Finn, “I was thinking. Can I take Bucket on my rounds this afternoon?”

  “Yes, of course. Why?”

  “He’s good company.”

  “Good company? You will have to carry him home, if you make him walk too far. What’s the real reason? Is it about this watcher?”

  “How do you know about the watcher?”

  “I’ve heard you two talking about it.”

  Finn asked if Kalher had seen him, but Kalher shook his head. Finn said he’d seen the watcher a few times, now, although he wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination. Garm thought it could be Kirk, trying to get revenge.

  “If I can get close enough to the watcher, or if Bucket can track him, I’ll know more.”

  “If anyone can track this person, it’s Bucket,” said Kalher. He stood, put on his cloak and sword, and walked to the front door. Kalher paused in the doorway, and turned back to the brothers. “Just be careful. There have been rumours that a border skirmish is going to start in the South. War always forces people to move, and it might push trouble into our quiet corner of the country.”